After returning from my Verona Vienna tour at the end of February and having my family doctor recommend to get rid of my gallbladder, I had an appointment at the surgical clinic in Seefeld (Ammersee, not Austria!) with the medical director. Because there was no sign of panic in my intestines, no hurry was required and a counselling session with the surgeon in three weeks seemed appropriate to the situation. I also had some work to do. In the week after my return from Vienna, I still held back a bit. I felt pretty blustered and somehow I did not feel like doing demanding work. That changed in the following week with a pretty tough trip visiting Bonn, Bautzen, Potsdam, Berlin and Dresden.

In Bonn I met Maike van den Boom, with whom I shared my ideas for my possible book project and who gave me incredibly valuable input. Slowly but surely, a framework for the book was laid out in my head and Maike pushed me with a fairly clear message: "Don’t just talk, do it!". But I was still missing the final push. Much to think about on the Autobahn.

My last stop on this tour was a dear friend, with whom I met at his home in Dresden. As I got out of the car, the day just passed and made room for a light drizzle. The wind that blew through the city streets was cold and inexplicably dampened my anticipation. That was probably because my host had a very sad year behind him, when his beloved wife voluntarily ended her life due to an undiagnosed, severe depression. A few hours later, as I drove south through the pouring rain through the Saxon night, my thoughts turned ceaselessly and melancholy on what I had heard in the past hours.

Surprised. Unexpectedly. Shocking. Unprepared. Traumatic.

How fast does a life situation change in such a dramatic way and is it even possible to be prepared for such an event? Can you prepare? Or better: do you want to prepare? The bottom line was: you should. Completely unplanned, a new, small mosaic stone was added to the large picture for my project and slowly but surely one could elicit a sense of all the small elements from a short distance.

Throughout the weekend, my mood was depressed. Ceaselessly I had this echo in my head: "What if?".

On Tuesday came the long-planned appointment in Seefeld. While waiting, the wonderfully analogous register on the PC at the front desk caught my attention. Should I really write my book, this would be a nice visual opening for a chapter:

The preliminary discussion with the surgeon, who would free me from this misery bladder on my liver, which had caused me such discomfort, was then short and painless. After a new ultrasound examination by the radiologist, he clarified me in detail about the operation and finally sent me to the anesthetist. All fine. My family doctor had done a great job. There was nothing to add to his diagnosis. Change with the thing! On Friday at 8:00 the surgery was scheduled.

Wednesday evening, news. I had relaxed comfortably on the sofa. Dad was fed and wanted to end the day. Too bad that the evening did not continue in the third person.

„Feels familiar. Pretty much, though”, was the crystal-clear message that shot through my brain. And the next thing that happened was this tank, which headed through our living room and then precisely across my liver. This was how the Deluxe version of a biliary colic feels! One thing was clear: I still had my gallbladder which did not want to wait until Friday. The message was so clear that I rolled from the sofa to the floor and writhed there, crooked in pain like a „U”. "Call emergency!” was what I could barely manage to articulate. Then I devoted myself with dedication to the stomping elephant in my intestines.

I hung out of the car and vomited more than I had eaten. Which was not a lot. My wife had packed me in the car immediately after calling the ambulance and was heading off towards the hospital Seefeld.
Hechendorf. Only 3 km to go. The wintry breeze bit into my "windward-ear". Contrary to any logic, my head was clear, analytical and quite direct to me: "You dork. Want to write a book so people get some ideas on how to prepare for such a situation. And you? If you wake up from anesthesia tomorrow after surgery and do not remember your master password, your life, as you know it, is over. Then, thirty-five digital years suddenly turn into digital smoke and leave ... digital ashes. You cannot do anything about it, you smart-ass! Not even your family and business partners can help. You information security freak! Everything is encrypted, locked up. Nobody has access. You neither, in particular.”

Along with my pain came the realization that I have nothing under my control that is beyond my analogous life. Eating my own dogfood? Not…

When the friendly doctor's morphine spilled soothingly warm through my veins after a light, initial burning sensation and took both my pain and the ability to think, everything was fine again. Cheerful and jokingly I said goodbye to my wife and submitted myself to the comforting warmth of a dreamless night. Could I have done something else? Certainly not under (medical) drugs!

When I came back to my room around noon, I was happy to be back only very briefly. Much more important was the question, which built up like a billboard in America in my inner eye: "What is my master password?"

P.S.: The password was still there, where it should be: In my fingers
P.P.S.: The last stone to the mosaic was a nasty little gallstone. The message from that: "Write. The. Book!"
P.P.P.S.: One of my first interview partners for my project was Dr. Markus Wagner. Exactly. The one who had offloaded me from my misery! Who, if not him, has to deal with people who suffer from temporary, sometimes even final, loss of control?

[Akward English with the help of Google translate. Speed beats accuracy]]]>Tue, 13 Nov 2018 11:46:53 +0100https://coterminus.com/en_za/?post_id=109&title=a-shot-across-the-bows---gallbladder-revisited
https://coterminus.com/en_za/?post_id=109One should listen if one's intestines have something to say. To draw the right conclusions then, would also be helpful and to act accordingly would be the ultimate proof that there is intelligent life on the planet. But as the saying goes, the doctor is the worst patient. Continuation of „When The Bile Goes Bonkers”.

…the food was fantastic and the company of the Bouwmeester family even more fantastic. A very exciting evening, which ended with me being dropped off in front of the guesthouse with the joint hope of seeing each other soon again. Ideally in Porto Pollo.

Happy about the evening I went to my small and cozy room, unpacked the trolly, brushed my teeth and …

... there was something!

An indefinite whack in my guts. Felt somehow familiar to me. I just could not determine where from. Maybe that was the Grappa in the afternoon on Lake Garda with the espresso and then the wine in the evening with another espresso, the seafood spaghetti and sushi…

... once again it moved across my guts!

"That's not good at all," I thought to myself, as I tried to take a deep breath, but failed at that due to my more and more tense stomach.
Breathing is for sissies and is heavily overrated anyway. NOT. I sat down and sweat although it was not really warm in the room. Turning on one side. Not good. The other side. Also not good. Not good on the stomach, either. And stretch again. That was the clearest „not good”. No matter how I turned and twisted, my interior was raging more and more. It now attacked me in waves and gave me nasty pricks where normally the liver is to be found. Liver? Liver! I drink alcohol in a really manageable amount and guaranteed not regularly or even excessively in short intervals.
And again a boost. A cramp? It almost felt like that. And then came the memory. The year before, I had that already, but obviously as a "light version": a biliary colic. In the first „release”, it was not exactly uplifting already, and I had now exceeded the limit of discomfort here in Verona by miles. To make it short: Until 3 o'clock in the morning, I alternately rolled on the bed or the floor, walked in small steps through the small room and hoped for relief by drinking tap water. Wether that is a good idea in Verona, I couldn’t care less in this situation.

What do you do at 3 o'clock in the morning in a country whose language you do not speak when you feel so bad? Call the police! Why not? I scurried with chunks of all the few languages that I speak and some, which I only guess, via the police to the ambulance:

"Attacco bilioso" and the address of the B&B I managed to whisper into my iPhone. And "dolore" combined with "per favore veloce".

I obviously sounded really modest, because they recognized the seriousness of my misery:

"Trenta minuti!" Sounded terribly long, but still enticing and gave me enough time to repack my trolley between the waves of colic, to write the landlady a note with the essentials and to carefully slip down the staircase on my butt with the trolley as moving upright was totally impossible.

Inspired by the idea of quick relief, I then hung in the street above my trolley like a wet rag over the edge of the cleaning tub and waited for the things that then manifested themselves in the form of an ambulance. I did not have to speak anymore, my condition told it all. I got an intravenous access and off we went to the hospital.

For those Germans who complain about Germany in general and the local health care system in particular, I recommend a bilious attack in Verona. So much for this: After the X-ray diagnostics they put me on a sickbed in the corridor until 5 o'clock in the morning and left me in agony. People hustling around me could not care less. Then Buskopan and Novalgin worked and an hour of short, dreamless sleep kicked in. Without pain but somehow fluffy in my head, my situation became all to clear to me. I would not want to die in this hospital, but I did not want to live there, either. I did what you often get to see in bad movies: leaving the hospital at my own risk. For those Europeans who like to complain about the EU, I also recommend a bilious attack in Verona: They will find that the treatment costs exactly NOTHING. Thank you, united Europe! No paperwork, no credit card. A signature and a I was gone.

As I was feeling good to walk and the fresh morning air cleared my head, I decided to not take a taxi and, with the help of Ms. Google, set off for the Verona Porta Nuova by foot.

Walking slowly for three quarters of an hour, pulling the trolley behind me. Veeeery slowly, but steadily: I finally had to catch a train to Vienna at 6:51 clock. When I dragged myself through Verona, Michi called me to wish me a good morning and asked, not knowing about my nightly experiences, how I was:

"Except for the bilious attack and the night in the hospital: just wonderful!“

Silence on the other side. His reproachful and worried "You should have called me" surprised me. I had not thought of that. Somehow my brain had been in a panic mode when I "wondered" how to get out of this situation. I simply was not prepared for that and had not thought of another two or three things; and then I still had a lot of trouble with thinking anyway ...

The train ride from Verona to Vienna was, to put it cautiously, marked by great tension: how unhappy was my gallbladder with me? Would it also spoil the rest of the trip for me? And: Was it the gallbladder at all? So much was clear to me: Radiologically, a bilious attack would only be diagnosable if there was a rock in the gallbladder. Whatever it was, it was gone for now. For now.

My ability to work with Raphaela at MeisterLabs was a bit "limited" due to the „nocturnal overture”. In fact, it was limited to a joint dinner. Somehow, my brain worked only with restrictions. My tired and dark shaded eyes did theirs to give Raphaela the assurance that she could not expect a lot of intelligent input from me. So I left it at the very delicious dinner in wonderful, understanding company, trolled me to my hotel and tried to catch up on sleep. The meetings on the next day with Olivia and Raphaela also did not have the required intensity. And that was up to me and the fluff between my ears. Before dinner with Till and Michael I had to go to the hotel for a short nap. Everything slush, somehow. Luckily, the two of them have known me for so long and knew that I should usually be able to make two reasonably intelligent remarks in a row without having to mentally recover for 10 minutes. One more night in the hotel. On the way there I could not even enjoy the imposing sight of St. Stephen's Cathedral:

Then, the trip back home from Vienna next morning. Always with one ear listening to my liver. After the arrival I immediately went to the family doctor, who concluded after a detailed examination of my gallbladder: „That beast is angry and has to be taken out". I could easily do without this and other body parts and still live a beautiful life.

Cliffhanger: I'm not done yet. And there is still no final trigger for "Coterminus." Keyword "Preparation."

Soon the mystery will be solved and the real reason for my project will be revealed ...

[Akward English with the help of Google translate. Speed beats accuracy]]]>Tue, 06 Nov 2018 16:35:02 +0100https://coterminus.com/en_za/?post_id=104&title=when-the-bile-goes-bonkers
https://coterminus.com/en_za/?post_id=104Some things have two beginnings (see: Attack of the Killer Fridges) in contrast to the sausage, which is known to have two ends. The warning shot hit me in Verona. Remember: Whenever you think it can’t get any worse, it will.

First things first:
In February 2017 I went to Verona to visit my dear friend Michiel Bouwmeester. We had been competitively riding surfboards of the same brand for a while. Unlike me, he carried on windsurfing. We almost lost contact after these glorious days in the late seventies / early eighties. Almost!

If my father did not have to move, I would probably never have had the chance to dig in the analog family inheritance. And, as described in Drilling in the Past: You are looking for one thing and find 100 different ones. Or you are looking for nothing at all and find yourself back in the beginning of your existence. In other words, in the clutches of thousands of analog slides and tens of Normal 8 and Super 8 rolls of film. Dozens of slideboxes covered with dust under the table. Treasures that nobody has looked at for decades. Because it still is complicated. And the slide projector is with the older brother hidden in his basement. Even if the projector was on the table: switching it on and "zapp" the light bulb would go up in flames and the family would stare in frustration at the empty, laboriously set up and equally dusty canvas. Sounds familiar? The replacement light bulb is only available at a fishy Chinese webstore and, on its way to you, gets stuck in customs lacking basic security certifications. Incidentally, the same applies to the light bulb of the Super 8 projector. Speaking of the projector: Where did the Normal 8 projector go lost? Guesswork…

There is no sufficient room in Father's new apartment. So, much to the delight of my wife, all the dirty boxes end up in my office and stand there for a few months waiting for a better place. Even now they are not looked at for lack of ... time and light bulb.

There they would still stand today if I had not come up with the glorious idea of digitizing all these analogue treasures in such a way that the whole family has access to them whenever they want. An expensive piece of fun, but an exciting day when the now digitized family legacy is delivered stored on a small black hard drive.

Then, on my computer, a first quick glimpse on all those digitized slides and hours of filmed Super 8 childhood. Some, I had probably never seen before. At least not that I recall. And then came the film with the Munich Windsurfing-Championship.

As I was lacking a driver's license, my dad had volunteered for the rides to the competitions as a driver and had fun filming me from the beach while I was surfing on the regatta course. Pictures and clip must have been created in 1980. A day with pretty crisp southwest wind in Stegen at the lake Ammersee. Uli Stanciu from the magazine "Surf" shows the first small jumps on the "black pig“, a first-generation funboard made entirely of carbon. And then, I drive through the picture and make nonsense on the brand new HiFly 333 of my then girlfriend. I have to run the clip again from the beginning and again. Exactly like my memories of that day: Looping. What I had not noticed in the first runs: In the foreground Michiel Bouwmeester passes through the picture on a HiFly 444 prototype:

We were competing in the „Open Class” for HiFly for a short time in the years following this event. He as a full professional and I as a hopeful talent with material sponsorship from Akutec, then based in Weilheim. He regularly went on regattas where he lead the crowd, while I was trailing at first. At some point he suddenly disappeared and I was drafted: As a paramedic in Panzergrenadierbatallion 222 in Murnau. That was the end of my dream as a windsurfing professional.
But what had actually happened to Michiel? I had some vague memories that he had landed in Torbole at Lake Garda. Some internet research later I found out that he had moved his surf station Procenter from there to Porto Pollo in Sardinia.
Interesting how even my analogue history has been saved in the digital world. At least in an indirect way.
In January 2014, after being out of touch for 30+ years, I simply sent some digital memories to him via fb messenger. Pics and clips from my father’s archive that I found relevant to him:

The answer came instantly: "When are you coming?"
Hm. Good idea! First I came with family. And then I came to Porto Pollo again and again and… again. But this is another story…

Actually, I had only planned a trip to Vienna to my friends of MeisterLabs. But since Verona is almost on the way to Vienna (LOL), I thought that it would be a good idea to visit Michi where he usually spends the winter with his family. After hard months of work and suffering (!) on his surfing station in Porto Pollo in Sardinia.

In March across the Alps by train. Always an experience. Especially when spring is knocking at the door. The mountain peaks still powdered with snow, while the plain before Verona already glows green and colorful in the morning sun.

After Michi picked me up from the train station in Verona, we decided to break out for work at Lake Garda. Along with good food, vino and coffee, fantastic scenery and a lot of reminiscing. The season had it that it got dark and a bit chilly quite early. So back to Verona, check in at my B&B and then off to the city for sushi with Michi, his wife and son. What I did not know at the time: My personal evening was to take an unpleasant turn after our joint dinner.

And what on earth does it have to do with my bile? Still coming. Just a Clickbait!

[Akward English with the help of Google translate. Speed beats accuracy]

]]>Thu, 01 Nov 2018 11:20:40 +0100https://coterminus.com/en_za/?post_id=100&title=attack-of-the-killer-fridges
https://coterminus.com/en_za/?post_id=100Everything has a beginning. The story of my project began on 21/10/2016, when a horde of frantic refrigerators and other networked equipment joined forces and brought down beloved services such as Twitter, Netflix, Paypal and Spotify with a coordinated attack (Heise).

The more I used this story while working on my book, the more often I looked into completely uncomprehending faces.

"Networked Refrigerators? Why on earth should a refrigerator be networked?"

After 18 years in information security, I can’t be taken by surprise too quickly. But I had to smile a bit, because the refrigerators did not want to stay alone as they teamed up with webcams. And with all sorts of possible and impossible other devices that, for good reasons or in the absence of such, happily flickered in the worldwide web.

"What sense does that make?", Was one of the most frequently asked questions of people outside of my domain, with whom I communicated at this time about this incident.

"Someone sense it seems to make. Otherwise no one would spend money on it” was then often my shrug answer. Anyway, the salamis in the networked refrigerator probably reported the expiration of their shelf life to the infrastructure of Spotify and their likes so often that bandwidth for music was not sufficient anymore.

Who did this and why should not be the subject of my considerations here. Much more interesting was a process that actually took place in the slipstream of events towards the end of the year 2016.
The short version:

Mr. Smith and his wife are sitting at the breakfast table in their small but nice little house with garden and nice neighbours.

He: "Everyone has cameras in their homes. We also have to do something for our safety! Why should someone break into our home and not into our neighbour’s home? Tomorrow I will buy an alarm system with networked cameras. I want to see when the Russians come, otherwise I'll feel like Meister Roehrich":

[Eckhard! The Russians are here!]
She: "Do what you feel you have to do. I do not know my way around this modern digital toys anyway. "

And he did it because he could not resist and probably went to ALDI and took advantage of the current special offer for webcams.

In no time the house was equipped with webcams all around. The newly purchased "quality products" were bolted to the house so that really no piece of the garden remained without digital observation. Of course, the cameras immediately reported any movement around the house to Mr. Smith's smartphone. Every cat that roamed the garden created this soothing "all-in-control" alert. Absence would not be an obstacle either: Even from the Italian Riviera, Mr. Smith could have watched the snails in the vegetable patch during their destructive work. All right. Nearly. Because:
As soon as the cameras blinked happily, Mr. Smith was struck by surprise:

She: "Honey, you are so pale!"
He: "I'm not feeling well!"

Said it and deceased unspectacularly on the living room carpet without further ado.

The following days and weeks were filled with family, funeral, ministries and mourning. Meanwhile, the cameras found a new friend: the Command & Control server of a gang of bad girls and boys, for whom the FBI is still looking for today. After the master of the house had gone for good, the cameras did not even think to follow him and kept filming and sending undeterred. With a new boss. As part of the botnet that had just executed the aforementioned attack on music, communications, and infrastructure.

The weeks went, the grief remained in the house of the Smith’s. And the webcams continued to film. Nobody cared about them either. Then the poor widow was the sole heir and thus the proud owner of a house with a garden and a sophisticated alarm system; but that did not matter to her, because she was busy rearranging a life.

In the meantime, and due to considerable public pressure, ALDI had admitted the vulnerabilities of the cameras and provided an improved operating system. Even that passed without notification to the mourners; the Cameras remained unchanged and continued seamlessly their criminal career.
At some point, this condition was noticed by Insecam and there was a live stream from the Smiths and their neighbourhood. But here was the problem: One of the cameras bluntly filmed into the living room of the (still nice) neighbours. And she had a habit, which she pursued with daily regularity:

Every time her husband was away for work, she would be "blessed" on the living room table by someone other than her husband. Unknowing that this very analogous habit just as regularly found the digital way to Insecam and thus to the world.

This kind of entertainment is not necessarily the exception in today's worldwide web and the likelihood that, apart from some voyeuristic basement geeks, exactly one colleague of that neighbour's husband - who was not aware about the infidelity of his wife - would not have his lunch break in the canteen, but in front of his computer, could have been rated as low. But „would, should, could”: He did just that. The colleague.

And then came what just had to come. The shamefully whispered question of this colleague while taking a leak in the company men's room:

Needless to say: the mood at the neighbour’s dinner that day was lurking, to say the least.

The collegial web surfing in the office at noon on the following day was also a short, vivid and momentous exercise and ended on the same evening with the emphatic invitation to the wife to accept the divorce and spend the coming weeks and months under a different roof.

Of course the story goes on here. I do not want to reveal too much. One question should be asked to the inclined reader:

„What was the first visit of the soon to be divorced cheater?"
(Tip: not to the lawyer)
Will continue in the book and here ...
[Remark of the author: The legal implications adhere to German/EU law. It is likely that financial consequences are significantly higher in the USA. Try it out and let me know!]

]]>Sat, 27 Oct 2018 13:19:26 +0200https://coterminus.com/en_za/?post_id=85&title=fancy-writing-a-book
https://coterminus.com/en_za/?post_id=85When my publisher asked me this question in winter 1986, it hit me by surprise, although I already had 3 of my „software compilations“ plus a stand alone application program published by that small but fine company in Aachen „Becker & Partner - Verlag und Datentechnik“

Bernd Saretz, their „default“ author for these kind of books had made the decision to pursue an academic career and would not be available for the scheduled book projects. Top on the list was the „System- und Programmbuch für den Sharp PC-1403“, a pocket computer that, like its predecessors 1401/1402, was approved for German universities and was likely to turn into a bestseller.
Despite (or better: because) of my lack of experience with such a project, I lightheartedly answered: „Yes"

Prolog…

During my first stint at the University, I had learned programming the DIY-way. The reason was pure desperation as my math skills were so limited that I had the final hope to get a better understand of higher math if I write software about it. To no avail…However, frustration came with a bonus: I had learned writing software in BASIC and Assembler on small pocket computers which could be sold as a printed listing in combination with a „datasette“ at the Munich universities. Some income for the chronically empty student pockets but also some nights in the copy shop. This is when I got the call from „Becker & Partner“, then a pretty well known publisher of subject matter literature. They wanted to publish my work as „Software Compilations“. This is when I called the night in copy shop quits and expanded beyond Munich!

In the meantime I had changed subject and replaced the painful mathematics with psychology and educational theory but was still writing software. This was particularly brave in a time where computes where considered bad as they would push mankind into unemployment. Somehow, history repeats itself right now.

After having published 3 software compilations - one even translated into french - and one stand alone application, they now asked me this question. Challenge. Cutting a long story short: One book turned into 4 and I turned into an Apple-Fan. While I wrote my first book on an original 128k Macintosh that I had borrowed from a local Apple dealer, I immediately upgraded to a Mac+ as soon as the first cheque for sold books arrived.

My beloved Mac+ ist sill functional like in the good old times in my student shack at lake Ammersee. Only, when I get romantic feelings, though!

To be continued…]]>Mon, 18 Jun 2018 12:30:00 +0200https://coterminus.com/en_za/?post_id=81&title=back-from-writers-exile-on-sardinia
https://coterminus.com/en_za/?post_id=81Three weeks in Porto Pollo on Sardinia in order to get a fully focussed view on the transcriptions of the interviews for my book. 70 hours filmed footage with 30 hours transcribed!

I never really fancied typing. Luckily, I had typewriter lessons at school and, in retrospect, I can state in good faith: Got me further than math… Hours and hours of blind typing with a headset on my ears does not sound too exciting at first. However, looking at it now, it is pure enrichment. While I was focussed on light, sound, the cameras and on the conversation during the interviews, I can now fully dive into the interviews and focus on details that were previously unnoticed.

Apropos focus: Transcription of one hour footage translates into 3-4 hours of concentrated work. That adds up to 280 hours in total. So far, I’ve transcribed 30 hours of footage totalling 246,754 words so far. And I have some pretty tough ones still ahead of me: I had very intense interviews with the members of Tangerine Dream and Eroc. 2 hours interview with everyone of them and up to 3 hours off the records.

Although I’ve spent those 3 weeks in one of the best windsurfing spots in Europe, I only made on the board 3 times. Either there was insufficient wind, my left lower leg complained or I was simply in the flow and would not realise how wonderful it was outside.

Here some impressions from Finning to Porto Pollo and back:

Thanks to my friends in Porto Pollo. Shelter thanks to Michiel, painless neck thanks to Erika, super food thanks to Max and always a friendly smile and encouragement by Nadine, Kristin and Fulvia. And, not to forget the super bag made by Martin from my old beloved (but unluckily outdated) Hood 3.7sqm.

]]>Mon, 21 May 2018 13:56:54 +0200https://coterminus.com/en_za/?post_id=73&title=information-overkill
https://coterminus.com/en_za/?post_id=73In the course of time, a lot has been written and said that helps me for „Coterminus“. Technical books, nonfiction books and novels have been published that not only cover the digital world but also all the surrounding topics that float around like soap bubbles: Clusters. One leads to another.

Only 2 months ago, I had been told that „my“ topic "would not be sufficient to fill a book“. That made me quite nervous, indeed. Particularly because this statement came from one of the most respected German politician of the last 30 years. Really? Not enough content? Almost logically, memories about school tests in German language popped up in my mind: Panically trying to fill the information gaps in order to fill enough pages. „shiver“…

Now, I’m sitting here and try to come up with a plan to deal with the unbelievable wealth of material with reasonable efforts, that piled up in MindMeister and DevonThink

Just the interviews bear enough content for 3 books. At least, it feels like it. Don’t lose focus now!

This is how the database looks like now:

(Yes. Due to manyfold request: I DO READ ANALOG NEWSPAPERS! Every morning the Landsberger Tagblatt. That way, I can argue with my wife about who gets the headstart to read the first part. You can spill coffee over it without electronic damage. Try that with a tablet!)

And it gets more by the hour. Have you ever bought yourself a yellow car just to find out that the world is full of yellow cars? Now you can relate to how I’m feeling: There is barely something that would NOT lead to or from my topic. I’m constantly taking notes, pictures or web clippings. What will the finder of my digital remains think about me?

On top, 80 hours of filmed footage. Maike shared with me that one hour of footage translates to about 40 pages of text. Halleluja. 3,200 pages of content! Of course, that includes my questions, my additions and my explanations. But, unlike my very nature, I've been very disciplined during the interviews and kept my mouth shut more often than not. Honestly! This will be REAL work. Typing, reading, understanding, sorting, clustering, and…

Apropos reading. Here is a small collection of my supporting literature:

Resulting in almost 80 hrs of filmed footage (1TB data), that I’ll prepare for transcription in the coming week.
Apropos transcription: The original plan was to have someone with quick fingers than mine do the typing. Three reasons why that is not possible:

1) There is too much to consider during the transcription that only I can do:

Which statements are relevant for the book?

Which statements can I use as they are?

Which statements need admission by the originator?

Which statements are relevant for the blog/YouTube?

Which questions had I asked but not written down?

What are the time markers for the questions/statements to find them later on?

Which statements need clearance before I can use them in public?

2) The Interviews are contextually interconnected with the main topic. My cup of coffee.

3) During the interviews, I’ve been told details that I must never disclose. Never ever.

Intelligent, open and supportive people. Not shy to tell and even less shy to ask.

They challenged me while I had the plan to challenge them.
I learnt a lot since the first interview with Raphaela in Vienna: Keep quiet, listen, understand and relate. And keep your gear running. Sound. Light. Cameras. All at the same time. I learnt from Daniel that this is actually a job for 4. I feel quadrupled! Another lession: Don't try to run more than 2 of those sessions on one day. Impossible. Totally impossible. Too much to digest and understand. I can babble away a whole day but listening is a different discipline. Thanks, Michael H., for the lession.

Now, I'm on the final stint with 14 sessions to go. I've been invited into our government to listen to those who run our wonderful country. I'll be closing my talks with my heroes of 40 years, the members of my fav band Tangerine Dream. Two weeks ago, I've enjoyed their excellent performance at the sold out "Elbphilharmonie" in Hamburg. Breathtaking. Awesome. Spanning 40 years of my life.

Currently, the last meeting is "officially" planned for 12-MAR. This then will leave me with 50+ hours of footage to transcribe and analyze. While this is going to be fun, the pure thought keeps me awake at night. This is when I'll take a deep dive into the project.

At the same time, the search is on for a publisher who dares to work with me. Initial responses have been promising. The topic rocks and I have a track record of 4 published books (albeit 30 years ago) and various other publications. That helps. Thanks to Maike for giving me guidance here!

Right now, I’m sitting at Stensted Airport outside of London after spending time with Ulrich Schnauss in his studio yesterday.

This was a very thought provoking session with an artist who challenged me with his sharp mind and philosophical literacy.
Going forward, I’ll report back to you from all my sessions with those who are the foundation for my book. Stay tuned!

I have to admit that I'm nervous. Totally unknown territory for me. Just the technical stuff took me weeks to get my arms around. Which camera for which purpose? All cables on board? Does the sound with built in mics sound like it should sound (answer: Nope!)? Is the lighting OK? Sufficient batteries, chargers and cables in the bag? Adaptors, tripods and converters? Sufficient space on my SSD? All the what ifs taken care of??? As if that would not be enough: How to pack all of that in a way that I can travel by train without straining my back?

Right now, I'm sitting in the train to Vienna. Spending two days with wonderful people in this wonderful city:

My dear friends from MeisterLabs, the makers of MindMeister and MeisterTask will spend time with me on the subject. A wonderful friendship and a sincere admiration about what they've achieved in the last 10 years.

And tomorrow evening, I'll have the privilege to talk to a wonderful lady whose musical art I've admired during the last 25 years. Very very exciting!

To be continued…

]]>Wed, 06 Dec 2017 12:13:57 +0100https://coterminus.com/en_za/?post_id=51&title=music-lives-forever-not
https://coterminus.com/en_za/?post_id=51It gets tricky when it comes to digitally surviving. For some it is important to leave no or at least a clean digital trail. Some want to leave a seamless digital heritage. Others don't give a dime. But Musicians have no choice!

Sheet music has stood the test of time. Over centuries. It is something else with music carriers. After 100 years, the phonograph cylinder sounds, well, "special". Our good old tapes are slowly becoming transparent and bursting with tesa patches. CD's happily dissolve and hard drives get "headaches" every now and then. Putting everything in the cloud is not really a generation-spanning solution.

If the spread is big enough, there will probably always be one person on the planet who has exactly THE aria of Caruso on a working record. And the music sheets for this aria reside in the vault of a rich collector or are exhibited in a museum. Bingo.

However, it is another ballgame when it comes to digitized electronic music. Loops loop digitally. Putting down a loop on paper is a challenge that no mentally sane person would accept. And if the recording is supposedly "safe", the reputation of the musician must outlive the time. How much sense does it make to have a wonderful record if nobody listens to it because the one who made it has long been forgotten and so has the music.

Brand AND art must survive!

Eeasier said than done. But it has to be done. Otherwise, the unfortunate offspring might have access to and control over the music but no income from it.

Complicated…

So, how do musicians deal with this dilemma? I'll spend lots of time with some wonderful artists who will share their wisdom on that subject with me. And you! Starting in Vienna next week and ending in Berlin. What a treat! Love it!

A vital part of the book project "Coterminus" are many many interviews with family and friends.

People that make their money in the digital world

Lawyers

Politicians

Specialists

Technologists

Musicians

Entertainers

Scientists

Managers and

People who are working in organizations that are relevant to the project

Have I forgotten something here? Please let me know if you think so!

Right now, I'm busy with the scripts for each interview. And the contractual work. I've planned to film most of the gatherings. Not only to make transcription easier for me. Taking notes while actively listening to your interview partner has never been my favourite and will never be. On top, multitasking is a fairytale. Even for women! Life is sequential!

What's missing is the lake in front of my home and the hours at night on the rooftop of the boathouse when I ran into a writers block. Listening to the sound of the night, the ducks and swans, the waves hitting the shore. That got my head clean in no time.

And here I am again. With a family induced break of 3 months, I'm busy since January already. But, why elaborating in lenghts when you can see it at a glance in this MindMeister-Map!

I'll go on tour for the interviews and will keep you posted in detail.
What I'm really really keen on are the anecdotes that you'll provide me with!

See you!

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